


Nighthawk

by DrunkenOracle



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Guns, Vigilante Justice, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-03-28 23:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3874501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrunkenOracle/pseuds/DrunkenOracle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm Hawke was the Nighthawk. Following his death at the hands of his adversary (who fell to Nighthawk's own hands at the same time), Leandra moved the family back to Kirkwall, and Marian and Garrett found themselves in possession of everything they needed to take up their father's mantle. Kirkwall needs Nighthawk as badly as Marian and Garrett need purpose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Calm Before the Storm

Marian’s breath was heavy in her lungs as she ducked one fist and blocked another, then swung her leg hard toward the back of the first man’s knee to drive in at the sensitive nerves there. He crumpled to the ground with an anguished cry and her knee met his skull with a satisfying crack that sent him sprawling to the ground, unconscious. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the other man move and she tried to duck out of the way, but too slow. His elbow dug hard into her ribs and brought a snarl to her lips. Thinking as quick as she could manage in the dark and the rain of the Kirkwall night, she linked her arm into his and pulled back and away hard, to throw him off his footing, before swinging him around to smack into the nearby wall.

A satisfied sigh upon her lips, she dug into a pouch on her belt and pulled out a phone. Her fingers slid quickly over the screen, typing out a message.

_Two down. Calling cards in a mo. Ribs bruised, possibly cracked. Calling it a night. Hanged Man in 20. M._

In a moment she had the phone tucked away again and was pulling a pair of what looked to be business cards out of another pouch, Nighthawk’s calling cards. She tucked the cards carefully between each man’s lips, then crept along the alleyway in the shadows to peer around the corner. The roads were pretty well clear in this part of the city most nights, and tonight was no exception, thankfully. It took some effort, and she winced at the sharp pain in her ribs as she went along, but she managed to drag both men to the mouth of the alley, where someone was sure to find them before dawn.

Footsteps light, she darted back down the alley and leapt up onto the fire escape, climbing swiftly up until she reached the rooftop.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Garrett felt his phone vibrate in its pouch on his belt, but he was a little preoccupied. One hand held his bloodied nose and the other balled into a fist before he lunged forward, dealing his foe a right hook. The man he was fighting grunted and stumbled backward upon impact, landed hard against the wall behind him. He shook his head, disoriented, before half-stumbling and half hurtling toward Garrett once more. A cocksure grin on his face, Garrett was more than happy to step to one side, grab the collar of the man’s shirt, and spin him right back around into the wall. This time the man slid down to the ground and stayed there, finally unconscious.

Garret placed Nighthawk’s calling card and shoved the man toward the mouth of the alley, careful to stay in shadow, then fled up the fire escape to the rooftop before daring to check his phone and send a response

_1 card. nose broken mayb? hm 20._

Why his sister bothered to type out full sentences, he’d never understand. It wasn’t as if they ever misunderstood each other’s messages.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The rain poured down harder than ever as Marian hurried into Kirkwall’s most infamous bar. It was happy coincidence that it was also her favorite.  A quick glance around told her that business was slow that night, which was fine by her, and that Garrett had taken up residence at a table in the back corner. She lowered her hood as she meandered up to the bar and winced only slightly when she leaned against a barstool to wave at the bartender.

“Your usual IPA, Hawke?” His voice was rough and familiar as he called down toward her while pouring a beer for another guest.

“Always, Varric. Any news floating around town?”

“Not much. Nighthawk busted up a couple incidents last night. Tevinters holing up in empty houses around town and the like.” He grunted and barely grabbed a stein from a shelf above the bar, then filled it at the tap. “It’s amazing how they can get around town like that, y’know? Seems like there should be more than one of them.”

The look Varric gave Marian was… disconcerting. Had he figured her out? Couldn’t be. “Yeah. Maybe they’ve got some help.” She dug around in her pockets and dropped a few notes and coins on the countertop, enough to cover the beer and a tip, as usual. “Thanks, man.” Stein in hand, she meandered to the table her brother occupied, scowling as she felt the bartender’s eyes on the back of her head.

“He give you that look like he thinks he knows something, too?” Garrett drank from his stein, then wiped away the head that had gathered in his moustache and beard. “I think he might know more than he’s letting on.”

“He’s got a pretty good idea there’s more than one Nighthawk.” She sighed and settled onto her chair. “But we knew people would figure it out eventually. Dad was never able to get around to as many places in one night as we can.” Up went her stein and down went her beer, leaving head foamed up on her lip that she licked away when she set the stein down once more.

“Hopefully that’s all he knows. No luck with the Tevinters?”

“Not yet. I didn’t see any tonight while I was out. They may be laying low right now.”

“We did hit them pretty hard last night.” Garrett sighed into his stein before drinking more, and this time he let the head sit on his moustache for a few moments before lazily wiping it away. He was tired. “But we don’t know where they operate from, so for the sake of getting more information, I hope they’re active again soon.” He winced as his shin met Marian’s boot and he looked up to see Varric setting two fresh beers on their table.

“Last call,” Varric explained. “You look pretty beat up, Hawke, so I figured you could use one more, and it’s not fair if the lady doesn’t get one as well. I’m kicking everyone out here pretty soon. Hang out as long as you like while I close up.”

This was standard, routine, but the Hawkes would be lying if they said they weren’t a little suspicious of the bartender just then. After they’d almost finished their second drinks and everyone else had been sent home, or at least sent away from the bar, their suspicions were only confirmed.

“So, tell me,” Varric grunted as he settled into a chair at their table, “why it is you two are always coming in here with fresh injuries?”

“We’re siblings.” Marian shrugged and finished her beer. “We fight.” It was a lie, but hopefully a believable one.

“I don’t believe that for a second. You’re Nighthawk, aren’t you? The pair of you.”

A harsh sigh passed through Marian’s lips and she sank back into her seat and stared at the ceiling. “Of course you figured it out. Why wouldn’t you have.”

“It’s not like we don’t come in here with new scrapes and bruises every night or anything.” Garrett rolled his eyes. “We’re gonna have to ask you not to blog about this.”

“Well, obviously. Why would I spoil a superhero’s secret identity? That’d ruin the drama of it all.” Varric grinned at the pair. “But…”

Marian scowled. “I hate that word.”

“I want to be the first one to report on Nighthawk’s doings every night.”

“Of course you do.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Afternoon light washed into Marian’s bedroom and unmercifully landed on her face, bright and hot. Slowly, and with great reluctance, she awoke, she stretched, she yawned. Eyes still half-lidded and mind still addled with sleep, she rolled to one side to find the face of the clock staring at her judgmentally. It was two in the afternoon. A knock sounded at her door and it was finally enough to rouse her from bed.

“Marian you need to see the news! I’ll wind it back!”

She groaned and sighed and adjusted her tank top and stumbled around the room until she found pajama pants, then pulled them on as she hopped toward the door. Finally clothed and free of the room, she joined her brother on the couch and accepted the soda he offered her.

“What’s so important you had to rewind it?” The soda can hissed and cracked as she opened it.

“Just watch.”

_“Nighthawk incapacitated an unusually low number of criminals last night. Only three were found with calling cards, as compared to the near dozen apprehended with calling cards every night prior. The most interesting thing, though, is that a number of known criminals were found dead last night. It is unknown whether or not this was the work of Nighthawk, but the Kirkwall Police Department suspects that it was not, as Nighthawk has only ever incapacitated those they tussled with, and Nighthawk has never left an adversary without a calling card. We’ll have more to tell you when more information is uncovered.”_

Marian blinked a few times, processing what she had just heard. “We’re… not the only vigilantes in Kirkwall anymore, dear brother.”

_“The string of robberies has continued as well. No valuables have been located, and nobody has offered any information about this thief. It is unclear if perhaps this cat burglar is working with Nighthawk or may in fact be Nighthawk, given that even Nighthawk has not apprehended the cat burglar thus far.”_

“Now that’s just not right,” Garrett grumbled, offering the television his arrow fingers. “Why would we be in league with the cat burglar?”

“It’s almost a compliment. They think we’re so good at this tha--” Marian paused as her phone beeped at her from the coffee table where it sat charging. One eyebrow cocked, she picked the phone up to check the message. “That, uh… they think we’re so good at this that the only way the cat burglar can have not been caught by us by now is if they’re in league with us.” She scowled at the message.

_You aren’t working with the cat burglar are you? -V._

Her fingers worked quickly across the screen.

_Don’t be daft. M._

_Just checking, just checking. -V._

“Well, maybe if we’re lucky we’ll run into the cat burglar.” Garrett shrugged as he rose from the sofa and ambled toward the kitchen.

“And the other vigilante. Anyone who’s killing in our city needs a good talking to.”

“Yes, because scolding a killer will absolutely get them to stop. Great thinking, Marian. I’m sure they’re shaking in their boots just thinking about Nighthawk sitting them down and giving them what for.” Cabinets clattered open and closed and Garrett sighed loudly. “We have nothing to eat. I’m ordering pizza.”

“Order from that really nice local place, yeah? Not that awful chain. I don’t know what makes Orlesians think they can make pizza.”

“Probably the same thing that makes them think they’re so much better than everyone else. The works?”

“Is that a serious question?” Marian fiddled with her phone and soon she was typing out another message. “I’m inviting Varric. I figure we should keep him on our good side.”

“What better way than to bribe him with free pizza?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Marian sat on the balcony and stared out over Kirkwall, happy to feel the cool night air on her skin. In an hour she’d have to pull on her costume, cover every inch of skin in black and don a mask to hide her face, just in case, but for now she was still free. Well, mostly free. Her phone rang and skittered across the table beside her until she grabbed it up and slid the little green icon over.

“Yes, Bethany?”

_“You’re not killing people now, are you?”_

“No, Bethany. I’m not killing people.”

_“Neither is Garrett?”_

“Neither is Garrett. Apparently there’s a third vigilante active in Kirkwall. Hopefully we’ll find them before there’s more loss of life.”

_“That’s good.”_

“I’m assuming you didn’t call only to scold me?” Marian smiled in spite of herself as she spoke.

_“Mom wanted to know if you two wanted to come over for a late lunch tomorrow. Two o’clock.”_

“We’ll be there… and we’ll try not to accrue any more terribly noticeable injuries.”

_“Good. I’ve gotta get back to class now. Bye!”_

“Be sa-” Marian was cut off by the click of Bethany hanging up. She sighed. “Be safe, Bethany.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Marian skidded along a rooftop as she darted through the rain, eyes searching the dark for… there, that flash of white! She’d caught sight of someone, hopefully either the other vigilante or the cat burglar, and taken chase, and the chase had lead her to the rooftops quickly. She darted along, barely following their trail, until she slowed to a stop on an apartment building roof. Eyes searching, she inspected every direction, but… in vain. They were gone. She huffed out an impatient sigh and fetched her phone, quickly tapping out a message.

_Almost had someone, lost them on a roof around 12th and Drakon. Calling it a night. HM in 20. M._

 

 

* * *

 

 

Rain pelted Marian as she stepped into the Hanged Man, and she checked her phone again. No message from Garrett, and no sign of him inside. She scowled and hoped he was okay as she took a seat at the bar.

“The usual, Marian?” Varric asked. When she nodded her response, he continued on. “Haven’t seen your brother yet. Hope he hasn’t gotten into trouble.”

“So do I, Varric. So do I.” For some reason, she had a sinking feeling that trouble was exactly what he had gotten into.

He shrugged and passed over a stein, then forced a smile. “So what’s new?”

“Caught sight of someone, but I’m not sure who. That’s all tonight.” She sighed, then took a drink and licked away the head that foamed at her lip. “It’s unusually quiet right now, and I’m worried it’s the calm before the storm.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Marian scowled at her phone as she swiped the alarm away and forced herself out of bed. She still didn’t have a message from Garrett, but maybe if she was lucky he’d dragged himself home the night before. If not, she was sure she’d have had a message from their mother by then, informing her that Garrett had ended up in the hospital or the morgue. She stretched and yawned and adjusted her tank top, then pulled on pajama pants before leaving her room. Still groggy, she stumbled her way across the apartment to her brother’s bedroom door and her fist met with it thrice, loudly. Shuffling and mumbling in the room told her that her brother had, indeed, arrived home at some point, and she allowed herself a sigh of relief.

“Get up, Garrett! We’re supposed to have lunch at Mom’s today!”

More movement answered her, and then a loud thump as, presumably, Garrett’s feet hit the floor. After a few more moments of muffled shuffling and loud footsteps, the door swung open and Marian was greeted by her half-awake brother grinning like a fool. Just beyond him, she could see a dark-haired figure shift in his bed and pull the covers up further.

“I, uh… Found the cat burglar.” Garrett laughed.


	2. A Front Rolling In

“We wanted to  _find_  the cat burglar, not  _bed_  her, Garrett!” Marian hissed, locking the door to the apartment. “Does she know that we’re both Nighthawk?” They meandered toward the elevator slowly. With their apartment being the only one on their floor, it was a short walk.

“No, no, no, Sis. She has no idea there’s two of us. She’s convinced I just have amazing stamina.” Garrett chuckled and pressed the button to call the elevator car. The twins waited in silence until it announced its arrival with a loud ding and the door slid open. “You, uh… you said you caught sight of the other vigilante, right?”

“Yeah. Lost them, too. They’re good at dodging a tail, whoever they are.” She sighed as they stepped into the car and was quick to press the button for the garage. “Don’t know anything about them other than that.” Her phone chimed and a scowl spread across her face as she dug it out of her pocket to check the message.

_No calling cards from your brother last night? -V._

_He was too busy rolling around with the cat burglar. M._

_Nice. Get a name? -V._

Marian stifled a laugh. “Good question. The woman you so intelligently decided to leave in your bed in our apartment alone, Garrett… Did you happen to catch her  _name_?”

“I, uh… I did. She told me.” His mouth pressed into a thin line and he stared at the elevator door. “Whether or not I remember is another question entirely.”

 

* * *

 

“You’re late.” Carver snarled the words and scowled at his older siblings, but held the door for them politely. “Mom just finished setting the table.”

“Missed you, too, Carver.” Garrett grinned and went to ruffle his brother’s hair, only to miss horribly as the younger man ducked away.

“Missed you so very much, Carver,” Marian added sweetly, her hand sliding into his hair and mussing it just as he thought he was safe. “How’s the academy treating you?”

“Better than you two.” He snorted and closed the front door tight behind them, and the trio meandered through the all-too-large historic family estate into the dining room. “The academy didn’t suddenly put on a mask and start beating up criminals.”

“Not that again, Carver.” Bethany shook her head and tutted at her twin before gesturing at the table. “We’re trying to have a nice lunch. Stop being an ass.”

Garrett couldn’t hold back laughter, though he managed to contain it again surprisingly quickly. “Shit, Bethany! Watch your fuckin’ language!”

“Well, excuse me if some of us aren’t the same little girl they were before you two ran off to start singlehandedly defending Kirkwall from crooks and thieves and vandals.”

“And mobsters,” Marian offered, settling into a chair at the round oak table piled high with food. “Did you make deviled eggs?”

“Of course I did. What do you take me for... Carver?”

“Excuse you!” Carver protested, crossing his arms.

Marian chuckled. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing, Bethany. Carver makes the best brownies.”

“Thank you, Marian. At least one of my siblings is reasonable.” The younger of the Hawke boys finally settled into a seat at the table.

“Hey, I take offense to that!” But Garrett was laughing as he spoke. “I like to think I’m reasonable!”

“That, dear brother, is proof that you’re without reason.” Marian’s mouth spread into a wide smile as she teased her twin.

“Children, children…” Leandra’s voice was soft, but she easily caught the attention of all four at the table. A large pitcher of fresh lemonade took up both her hands. “Really, you should all quit antagonizing each other. It’s time for lunch.” She smiled sweetly and set down the lemonade in front of Garrett before taking her seat next to him. “Carver, darling, how are things going?”

 

* * *

 

“The food was wonderful, Mom. Thanks for inviting us.” Garrett pulled himself up out of his chair to gather plates, only to sit back down again when Leandra shot him a look.

“No, no. You two aren’t leaving yet. We’ve heard all about what Carver and Bethany have been doing lately, new people in their lives, but not a peep out of you two.” Their mother was fierce, no doubt about it. She could match wits with the best of them.

Marian sighed, sorrowful. “Mother, please, you don’t need to ask about our lives as though you appro-”

“I may not like that you’re carrying on your father’s legacy, dears, but I am your mother and it is my duty to support you in all your endeavors. Tell me what you’ve been doing lately.”

The older twins exchanged a glance before Garrett spoke. “We dealt a real blow to the Tevinters a few nights ago…”

“Busted up one of their storehouses. They have more, though, we just don’t know where.” Marian sighed again. “They’ve been laying low as far as we can tell since then, but someone who knows them better than we do has taken up vigilantism, it seems. A few Tevinters were found dead two nights ago.”

“Marian caught sight of whoever it is, but only for a moment.”

“They seemed to know that area of town really well.” She crossed her arms and stared fixedly at the table. “I’m going to stake out the rooftop where I lost them tonight. Maybe I’ll get lucky.” She caught her lip up between her teeth and started gnawing on it.

“Aside from that, we’ve stopped a few muggings, caught a few would-be thieves… Nothing as big as the Tevinters is really going on right now.” Garrett shrugged. “And until they’re active again, we have no real leads on finding them.”

“Except for this other vigilante,” Marian pointed out. “The Tevinters weren’t doing anything the night they were found dead, which means the other vigilante knows something we don’t.”

“Then it seems pretty obvious…” Leandra said, then sighed, hesitated. “...it seems pretty obvious that you need to get information from this other vigilante.”

Carver’s hands hit the table. “Mother, you can’t really be encouraging them to seek out and work with a murderer!”

“Carver!” Bethany hissed.

“Well, it’s true! It’s bad enough they’re taking the law into their own hands, but at least Marian and Garrett aren’t killing anyone! We have a justice system for a  _reason_!”

Marian pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. “Carver, I have every intention to make sure this other vigila-”

“Murderer, Marian. He’s a murderer.”

“Carver, that is enough.” Neither Marian nor Garrett would ever understand how their mother could be so commanding when she was so quiet.

Garrett cleared his throat and rose from his seat again. “Thanks, Mom. The food was great.” Without another word he started gathering up dishes and meandered toward the kitchen, arms full.

 

* * *

 

“It’s getting late,” Garrett grunted, eyeing the horizon behind them as they drove back into Kirkwall city limits. “We should go over the plan for tonight.”

It wasn’t hard for Marian to navigate the mess of buildings and roads and alleyways that was their new home. It’d only been half a year since they’d moved to Kirkwall, but in those months she’d learned its pathways like the back of her hand. “We already know I’m going to stake out that rooftop where I lost the other vigilante. You should plan to be as mobile as possible since I’m going to be stationary.”

“What was that intersection? 12th and… what?”

“Drakon. It was an apartment building.” It didn’t take long to return to their apartment building and head into the garage, and soon they were back in their parking spot next to the elevator. “You should try to loop half of the city or so. It might be the only reasonable amount of the city for you to cover without wearing yourself out trying to be everywhere… but keep an ear on the scanner so you can cut across town if something goes down.”

“Sounds like a plan. Should we set up the network? Might help if you could be in my ear when you get eyes on.” He grunted as he pushed himself up out of the car and swung the door shut.

“Probably a good idea. We’ll get it up and running before we leave tonight.” Marian winced and pulled herself out of the car as well. Her ribs were still hurting her. She shut the driver’s side door finally and tucked her keys into her pocket before hitting the call button. “And if the Tevinters are active tonight, I expect you to let me know.”

“Naturally.”

They fell silent, and when the elevator announced its arrival they stepped through the door as it slid open and then shut behind them. Garrett pressed the button for the penthouse and the elevator churned to life and started upward, only to shudder to a stop in the lobby. The door opened to reveal a short woman with dark hair.

“Oh, hello!” Her voice was light and high and cheery, though her accent was thick. Tantervale, Marian thought.

“Well, hello there.” Oh, no. No. Garrett was putting on his obnoxiously charming voice. Lovely. “Which floor are you looking for, Miss?”

“Oh, ah, fourth floor.” She stepped in quickly, before the door had the chance to slide shut again, and before Garrett pressed the mentioned button. “Thank you, Mister…”

“Hawke. Garrett Hawke, at your service.” His head dipped lightly in a mock bow that made Marian roll her eyes and the other woman giggle nervously.

“I’m Merrill. Just moved here, ah, to Kirkwall and this apartment building.” The elevator churned and began to move again, and Merrill grabbed the bar at the side of the elevator car. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I don’t really know anyone here yet.”

“Well, my sister and I live on the top floor. We’re usually free during daylight hours, and uh…” He paused for effect, and Marian dug her elbow into his ribs in vain. “...I’d love to get to know you better.”

Merrill’s nervous giggling was renewed and she smiled sweetly at Garrett as the door slid open at the fourth floor of the building. “I might take you up on that, Mister Hawke. You two have a good night.”

The door slid shut again and Marian glared at her brother. “You are incorrigible.”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

 

* * *

 

Garrett slammed his elbow back into one would-be assailant, knocking the wind out of him, and grabbed the arm of another directly in front of him, pulling hard toward himself to knock her off balance. The third looked on, eyes wide, and her hand went for her belt, but Garrett needed to focus on the two on him. One elbow up and back, hard into the jaw of the man to drop him, unconscious, to the ground. The woman managed to get her arms around his neck and held tight, trying to choke the air from his lungs, but he threw his head back into her face, felt her blood drip onto the back of his neck, and felt her grip slack until she fell to the ground, too.

He cleared his throat and turned toward the woman with the gun just as she dashed out of the alleyway. A sigh passed through his lips and he rolled his eyes and leapt up the fire escape to the roof.

 

* * *

 

Movement caught Marian’s attention before anything else and she shifted slightly as her eyes fought against the dark to see what, or who, had moved. After another moment or two, a figure seemed to materialize out of the dark and pulled a ski mask off to reveal a messy mop of white hair. It was the other vigilante, then. Good. The figure moved slowly, confidently, across the rooftop, as though they were calm, relaxed… as though their guard were down. They drew nearer until, finally, Marian began to pick out facial features. She could see the lines of tattoos down the other vigilante’s chin and neck, pale against their tan skin.

Marian realized, then, that she hadn’t planned on how to confront the other vigilante if she ever even found them. Oh, she was so unprepared, how foolish.

 

* * *

 

Garrett skidded down a rooftop and landed hard on the ground in the opening of the dead-end alley the woman had run into. Finally, she’d made a mistake in her frenzy to escape, and he could stop her before she killed someone in her fright. He approached her slowly, hands up, as she stared from wall to wall around her, until finally she faced him and held the gun up. He stopped.

“Hey, now… let’s not do anything rash…”

She shook her head, refusing to speak.

“Put the gun down… If you aren’t going to attack me, I’m not going to hurt you.”

The woman was shaking, but she cocked the gun. “You’re a liar. You’ve killed people, haven’t you?”

Garrett shook his head and implored her to believe him, even though he knew she wouldn’t. “No. That’s not my style. I try not to even injure anyone if I can help it.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “ _Liar_.” She pulled the trigger.

Garrett had time to press his finger to his ear, activate the microphone in his mask. “Trouble, Marian!” he gasped out, and then pain started, sharp and searing, in his shoulder, and spread down his arm.

 

* * *

 

_“Trouble, Marian!”_

The sound of the gunshot and the words was loud, louder than Marian had expected, and even if they hadn’t been enough to get the other vigilante’s attention, her gasp and cry of horror certainly were. She flung herself out of her hiding spot, no longer worried about confronting the man in front of her, and sputtered into her microphone. “No, no, no, Garrett, speak to me! Where are you?” She tried to think, where was he last? Where did he say he was going?

She felt the man’s eyes on her, but she ignored them, listening intently for her brother’s reply as she dashed across the rooftop. Footsteps behind her told her that she was being followed but that didn’t matter. That didn’t matter.

Garrett mattered.


	3. Yellow Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When we last left the Nighthawks, Garrett had been shot and Marian was facing down the other vigilante. What will they do next?

Thunder boomed overhead and the sky threatened to split open and suddenly the city felt huge and sprawling to Marian. Her feet carried her quick as they could across rooftops, her eyes trained on the alleys below. When she landed on her own rooftop she hesitated, re-oriented herself. She was in the center of the city, it would be quick to find Garrett, but she couldn’t remember where he’d said he would be. A light impact some distance behind her caught her attention and she turned to see the other vigilante stalking toward her.

“I don’t have time for this,” she hissed, then ran for the street-edge of the building and disappeared over the side of it. She landed hard on her balcony and threw the door open, only vaguely concerned, somewhere in the back of her head, about the fact that the other vigilante would likely follow her in.

Sure enough, she heard him land on the balcony just as she dashed out of her room and down the hall to the faux fireplace in the living room. She could just barely hear his steps as he followed her.

It was easy, quick, second nature, to open the vault, the secret room tucked behind the fireplace. A simple code tapped into the brickwork was all it needed, and the vault door popped open. She was in enough of a hurry she didn’t close it behind her as she rushed through, pulling her mask up off her face to rest at the top of her head. Finally she reached the console at the back and her fingers flew across the keyboard, tapping out commands quick as they could.

She heard the other vigilante enter the room and she finally looked back at him. He started to speak, but she didn’t give him the chance.

“I’m Nighthawk. You’ve been killing Tevinters. I don’t have time for this confrontation right now because my brother was just shot, but you’ve already figured that out, haven’t you? If you’re damned and determined to have a showdown with me tonight, then you’d better come with me.” The computer beeped at her and spat a string of numbers onto the screen. A quick glance was all she needed and she knew where Garrett had gone. “Otherwise, leave your name and number after the tone.”

She brushed past the other vigilante and tore back out of the vault. Garrett was on the western edge of town, and injured. She needed her car if she was going to get him somewhere safe.

Footsteps behind her gave away the other vigilante’s decision.

 

* * *

 

Marian didn’t speak, didn’t even look at, the other vigilante as they drove. Instead she snapped commands at her cell phone.

“Call Bethany.”

_“Dialing Bethany. Connecting.”_  The phone began to ring and after a few moments a click indicated that the call had been answered.  _“Yes, Marian?”_

“Do you know anything about gunshot wounds?” She focused on the road as she spoke, navigating to her fallen brother as quickly as possible.

_“Wait, who’s been shot?!”_

“I…” Marian hesitated and sighed. “Garrett’s in trouble.”

_“You should really take him to a hospital, Marian!”_

“You know I can’t do that! We’re in costume! They’ll ask questions!” One hand left the steering wheel to run through her hair and then landed on the wheel again, hard. “We’re not exactly on the right side of the law, Bethany! The media may love us, and we may be helping the cops, but we’re technically wanted criminals!”

_“...Fine. I can’t help right now, but I know someone who can. That EMT I mentioned at lunch runs a free clinic in Darktown. You can meet him at 31st and Mulrich.”_

“Got it. Thanks, Bethany.”

_“Be careful.”_

A click sounded as the phone call ended, and Marian sighed and pulled into the alleyway she’d been searching for. The sigh was cut short and replaced with a gasp when the headlights illuminated the crumpled form of her brother. She hurriedly threw open the door of the car and rushed to his side, quick to check his pulse and inspect the wound. He was breathing, his heart was beating, but he was unconscious and bleeding. Bleeding a lot.

She heard the other car door click open, heard footsteps approach. “Let’s get him into the car, to that clinic.” Somehow, despite the fact that the other vigilante sounded like he was growling, the words sounded… almost sympathetic. Concerned?

Marian’s breath left her in a ragged sigh and she breathed in again, deep. “Right. Help me. He’s a little heavy.”

 

* * *

 

“How do you know this won’t be a trap?”

“My sister wouldn’t lead me into a trap.” Marian sighed. “If she trusts this man… well, even if she doesn’t, he’s really my only option, unless you have medical experience.” The ride was smooth, uninterrupted. Traffic was minimal in Darktown at night, in a turn of events that surprised absolutely nobody, so reaching 31st and Mulrich didn’t take long. A figure very nervously holding an umbrella overhead, though it hadn’t started raining yet, stood at the corner.

After a moment the figure took notice of the car and waved them along around the corner before starting down the street. Marian cocked an eyebrow, but followed the figure into a garage. They stashed their umbrella away and disappeared into the building while Marian killed the ignition.

“Help me get him inside.”

 

* * *

 

The other vigilante cleared his throat, rough, as they waited outside the room. “Not to sound suspicious, but why are you trusting me?”

Marian rolled her eyes before looking up at him. “I’ve been a little preoccupied with my brother tonight. If you were going to do something, try to kill me, you’ve had plenty of chances and taken none of them.” A sigh passed through her lips and she looked up to the ceiling. “Thank you, though. You didn’t have to help.”

“Helping was the fastest way to ensure we could have a discussion. I have enough people dogging my steps with the Tevinters on my back; I don’t need Kirkwall’s ever-faithful champion following me and tripping me up as well.”

A short bark of laughter escaped Marian. “Is that what they’re calling us now? Kirkwall’s champion?”

The other vigilante shrugged. “You’re breaking up crime rings left and right. The city loves you. The cops? Not so much. The Tevinters certainly don’t.” He sighed, and it almost sounded like a growl. “But you’re pointed in the wrong direction with the Tevinters. Gift-wrapping them for the cops will only get them killed or sent to another base of operations.”

Marian opened her mouth to speak, but failed, and looked him in the eye. “That only raises questions. Who the hell are you?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and scowled. “My name is Fenris. I used to work for the Tevinters. For the boss specifically. I was his personal bodyguard and prized hitman.”

“...You’re shitting me, right?” When he shook his head no, she followed suit in disbelief. “Alright, Fenris, let’s say I believe you. Why should I trust that you aren’t just luring me into a trap?”

“You have no reason to trust me, Marian. I have no proof that anything I say is true.”

“...But?”

“But you have no other leads.”

 

* * *

 

Garrett woke slowly, head pounding. He could almost hear his blood rushing through his veins and arteries as his eyes cracked open. Movement in the room caught his attention and he looked toward it, but couldn’t make out the figure.

“Marian?” he croaked.

The figure looked up and it was definitely not Marian. Too blonde. Not angry enough at him. “No, no. I’m Anders. How are you feeling?”

“Like I was just shot.” His lips broke into a smile naturally, but he couldn’t bring himself to laugh.

Anders arched an eyebrow, but smiled. “I got the bullet out. You’re all cleaned up and stitched up, but you’ll need to rest.” He leaned over Garrett and checked the bandages for good measure. “Probably for a couple weeks. I’ll be by your apartment every so often to check on you.”

Garrett forced weak laughter and caught Anders’ wrist. “If getting shot means you’ll take care of me, I should get shot more often.”

Anders smile broadened to a grin. “We can’t have any fun if you only see me when you’re injured.” He pulled his wrist free gently and went to crack the door open, waving Marian and Fenris in. “He’s awake. Probably a little dizzy, so he shouldn’t stand without help.”

“Oh, thank the Maker.” Marian sighed in relief and brushed past Anders into the room. “Garrett, what the hell happened?”

“Oh, I’m fine, Marian, thanks for asking.” He nodded his head toward Fenris. “Who’s your friend?”

“No, no, no. Tell me what happened and then we can discuss other things.”

“Attempted grand larceny. Jewelry store.” He jerked his chin toward Fenris again. “Who’s your friend, Marian?”

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “The other vigilante. Fenris. He has intimate knowledge of the workings of the Tevinters, and is our only lead to taking them down.”

“Without killing them?”

Fenris shook his head. “There’s no way to stop them without permanently removing those in charge. Death is a necessity in this case.”

Garrett’s mouth fell open and he cocked an eyebrow at his sister and gestured at Fenris, as though asking if she was hearing what he was hearing.

“Sometimes it’s unavoidable, Garrett. Like Dad’s…” Her voice gave out then, and after a deep breath she forged on. “We’ll do what we can to ensure capture, but if we have to kill someone, we have to kill someone.”

“I don’t know, Marian… We agreed that wasn’t how we’d operate.”

“That was before we knew how bad things actually were.” She sighed and glanced over at Fenris. “Apparently they own some of the cops.”

“More than that,” Fenris grunted. “A lot more.”

Marian dug her phone out of her pocket when it chimed at her. She saw Garrett go for his as well.

_Is everything okay, guys? Closed the Hanged Man two hours ago. Worried. -V._

“...Let’s get you home, Garrett. I’ll ask Varric to meet us at the apartment.” Marian sighed and sent a reply, quick to shove her phone back in her pocket before she turned to Anders. “Thank you. For fixing him up. I’ll ask Bethany to give you our address so you can keep an eye on him.”

“Or if you want pizza and beer you can come over now.” Garrett’s eyebrows looked like they wanted to rocket off into space.

“I’ve got other patients to tend to, but thank you.” Anders nodded slightly and looked back to Marian, passing her a small bottle. “Painkillers, for if he needs them. If he says he doesn’t need them, he probably needs them. If he says he needs them, he really needs them.”

“Hey!” Garrett’s eyes narrowed at Anders. “Rude.”

“I don’t hear you denying it.” Anders shot Garrett a mischievous grin, then looked back to Marian. “I’ll be going now. You get home safe.”

“Fenris? What about you?”

Fenris scowled at Garrett, skeptically somehow. “I’m not so sure that’s a goo-”

“We still have business to discuss, Fenris.” Marian’s voice was matter-of-fact and she approached her brother. “Why not discuss it over pizza and beer? Help me with Garrett.”

 

* * *

 

Varric pulled himself up off the floor when he heard the elevator announce its arrival. The door slid open and Marian and Fenris escorted a not-quite-conscious Garrett the short walk to their door.

“Keys are in my jacket pocket, Varric. Open the door for us? Garrett’s heavy.” Marian exchanged a glance with Fenris as they struggled forward.

“What the fuck happened to him?” Varric’s eyes narrowed and he hurried over to dig the keys out of Marian’s pocket, then back to the door to unlock and open it.

“Long story. Gunshot. Met a guy named Anders. Runs-”

“-a free clinic in Darktown, yeah. I’ve been meaning to interview him for the blog.” After the other three made their way into the living room, Varric ducked back into the hall to grab the pizzas he’d brought. “Who’s the new guy?”

“Oh, right. Fenris, meet Varric. He runs the Hanged Man and a well-read blog about Kirkwall news. Exclusive first rights to Nighthawk’s movements. Varric, meet the other vigilante.” There was a soft thump as they deposited Garrett on an armchair, and then Marian crossed her arms and locked her eyes to Varric’s.

Varric thought for a moment and then set the pizzas on the living room table. “So… you… brought him here?”

“He’s got information, Varric. Get me a beer, would you?” She let herself fall onto the couch and gestured for Fenris to sit as well. He shrugged and settled onto the other end of the couch. “You drink?”

“Some. Wine mostly.” Even now his voice seemed to be a growl. Did he ever sound anything other than angry?

“You need an IPA, Fenris.” She clapped her hands and threw open the top box of pizza, letting the smell of the pepperoni and cheese waft through the room. “How did you get this? Didn’t this place close hours ago?”

“Eh, owner owes me. I called in one of my favors.” Varric shrugged and passed bottles to Marian and Fenris before settling into the other armchair and cracking his on open. “What are we discussing?” He tossed the bottle opener to Fenris and drank.

“Fenris here is our in. He knows the Tevinters almost better than they know themselves.”

Varric inspected Fenris, scrutinized him. “Well… What have you got, Broody?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those that aren't storm chasers or Kansans (who are inherently storm chasers), a "yellow box" is an area where conditions are favorable for development of a severe thunderstorm.


	4. Scattered Storms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week after the night Garrett was shot, the group reconvenes to start sorting out a game plan. The afternoon doesn't go quite as smoothly as they'd like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow I did not want to take this long to update this. First I moved into my new place and then I had to wait until I had internet because all my stuff is on the cloud and wowee this took forever to write after I had internet because I cannot write dialogue why did I schedule a chapter heavy on dialogue? My bad. I hope anyone who's actually reading this enjoys it.

Garrett grunted, awakened earlier than he’d have liked by movement in his bed. Beside him, a woman he could aptly describe as a dark-skinned temptress shifted closer to him. What was her name? Elizabeth…? Eliza…?

“It’s Isabela, sweet thing.”

Garrett opened his mouth and scrutinized her.

“You had that look on your face that men get when they don’t remember the name of the piece they slept with,” she explained. Her smile was… sultry was the only word for it. “Shame, though, that’s twice now I’ve told you, and you still didn’t remember. If you weren’t so much fun, I’d be less forgiving.”

His mouth twitched into a smile and he started to speak, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. Damned if that wasn’t all-too-common lately.

“Garrett, Varric’s here with Antivan and pizza. Anders will be by soon to take another look at your shoulder.” Marian’s voice was muffled, but she was clearly concerned about him. She’d been concerned about him since he’d been shot the week before, though, and he was a little tired of it.

“Yeah, uh… I’ll be right out.” He didn’t look away from Isabela as he spoke, though he began to shift to the edge of the bed. Then, more quietly, “care for some Antivan, Isabela?”

“Funny, I could have sworn you were Fereldan.”

 

* * *

 

Marian ran her towel through her hair and let it fall to her shoulders as she meandered back into the living room. “He should be out here in a little bit. Make yourself comfortable, Varric.” She tugged self-consciously at the neck of her bathrobe when she heard the guest room door click first open and then shut, punctuating footsteps as Fenris entered the living room. “I’ll be right back.” A strained smile worked its way onto her face and she ambled down the hall to her bedroom, pulling the door shut behind her.

Fenris hesitated, then looked at Varric. “Something I did?”

Varric could only shrug. Thankfully for them both, Garrett was ready to make everything… better, for lack of a better word. His door swung open and he stepped out, followed closely by his surprise bedfellow.

“You took a concerned visitor last night?” Varric snorted a laugh. “Hope you didn’t strain that shoulder of yours.”

“Well we can’t all have a puppy-eyed sidekick like Marian’s got.” Garrett shrugged as he fell into an armchair. “This is Isabela.”

“I’m assuming she’s the cat burglar?” Varric dug around in one of the bags he’d brought and started pulling out boxes of food.

“Has to be,” Fenris grunted. “There’s no other way she could’ve found a way in here without one of us knowing.”

“You’re really going to talk about me like I’m not right here?” Isabela crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. “I mean, I am a person, whether I’m a cat burglar or not.”

“Hold on, puppy-eyed sidekick?” Fenris shot a look at Garrett, having put two and two together a little more slowly than normal.

“Look, can we all just sit down and eat? There are beers in the fridge, Isabela. Help yourself.” As though he owned the place, Varric stared around at everyone until finally they all sat down and tore open the wrapped plasticware. The group ate in silence for a few moments, only looking up again when Marian passed through to the kitchen.

“Who’s the new girl?” she called back, her question punctuated by the clatter of bottles hitting each other as the fridge door was swung open.

Isabela glared around at everyone, daring them to speak for her. “I’m Isabela. You must be Marian.”

“The one and only. Anybody want a beer while I’m in here? We’ve got stouts and IPAs to spare.” A pause. “Except you, Garrett. You’re still on painkillers.”

“Can’t we just, y’know, bring me a beer anyway and not tell Anders?”

“That’ll never work,” Varric chortled. “Bring me an IPA, Killer.”

“Same, please!” Isabela was, it seemed, making herself right at home.

“I’ll take a stout, Hawke.” Fenris’ voice was as grumbly as ever, but he almost smiled when Marian handed him his beer after she’d opened them all and returned to the living room.

She passed the other beers to Varric and Isabela before settling into her armchair with hers and grabbing up a pizza box. “So… you’re Kirkwall’s cat burglar?”

Isabela set her drink on the coffee table and narrowed her eyes at Marian. “Now how did you ever come to that conclusion?”

“These boys aren’t nearly as quiet as they like to think they are. I heard the conversation while I was in my bedroom.” Marian drank her beer, eyebrows raised in cool challenge.

“Air vents,” Garrett groaned, rubbing his eyes with one hand and gesturing vaguely upward with the plastic fork in his other. “Sound from the living room carries into the bedrooms.”

“Hard not to hear such interesting conversation. I assume Isabela is a pseudonym, but, more importantly…” Marian set her beer on the table and leaned forward over the still closed pizza box. “Isabela, can we trust you?”

“...What?” Isabela’s brow arched in confusion and perhaps suspicion.

The corner of Marian’s mouth twitched upward and amusement seeped into her voice. “Hand to the word of the Maker, Isabela, can we trust you? You know that Garrett is Nighthawk. You won’t sell us out to the cops if you’re caught? You don’t work for the Vints? You _won’t_ work for the Vints?”

It was Isabela’s turn to sound amused. “Who would be daft enough to work for the Vints?”

Fenris tensed and Garrett stifled a chuckle.

“No, I won’t reveal his super secret identity. Now tell me what the blazes is going on here.”

Varric shook his head. “There’s a whole heap of shit going down in Kirkwall, and the Hawkes here have taken it upon themselves, with the help of their trusty sidekick Fenris, to clean it all up. ...If nothing else, it makes for a good story.”

“Trusty sidekick?” Fenris scowled, something at which he was marvelously talented. “I am not their sidekick.”

“If anything, we’re _your_ sidekicks, Fenris. You have all the intel and experience with the Vints.” Marian finally opened the pizza box and pulled a slice out.

“To think,” Varric laughed, “Broody here is the mastermind!” He leaned toward Marian and took a slice of his own out of the pizza box before she closed it once more.

“I’m not broody,” Fenris protested, though he hadn’t stopped scowling.

“You’re a little broody, man.” Garrett chuckled. “It works for you though.”

“Nobody asked you, Hawke.”

“Cool it, kids.” Varric waggled his beer at them in as scolding a manner as he could manage. “We need to work  _together_.”

Marian opened her mouth, intending to add her own commentary, but found herself cut off by the newest arrival.

“Hold on, why do you call them both Hawke? Doesn’t that get confusing?” Isabela cocked an eyebrow as she watched Fenris.

“Hawke is their family name,” he offered up. “And I’ve never had the wrong twin answer me.”

“But what about when you talk  _about_  them?”

“To whom?” Garrett paused to dig into a box of Antivan. “Fenris isn’t exactly the most social.”

Fenris scowled into his beer. “I’m task-oriented.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, man.”

“Hawke, am I still not allowed to hit him?

“Why would you-” A knock sounded at the door, and Marian heaved a sigh before setting her beer on the table and pulling herself back up onto her feet, pizza in hand. “No, you’re not allowed to hit him. He’s on pain meds!” She rolled her eyes and shook her head, then glanced at the screen by the door to see Anders staring up at the video camera and tapping his foot as he waited. She bit into her pizza when she unlocked the door and stepped back with it as she pulled it open, nodding only slightly at Anders as he entered the apartment.

“It’s always a party in here, isn’t it? You have one of the nicest kitchens I’ve ever seen, Hawke. Do you use it for anything other than beer?” He cocked an eyebrow at her and gestured from the pizza and take out in the living room to the empty kitchen.

Marian finished the bite of pizza in her mouth before answering. “Not really, no. Go sit down.” She gestured with her pizza toward the empty loveseat across from the sofa and pushed the door shut, stopping short right before it closed when she heard the elevator announce its renewed arrival on the floor. One eyebrow arched in suspicion, she pulled the door open again and peeked out into the hallway. For all her unease, though, she was unable to resist the divine temptation of pizza while she watched the elevator door.

Fenris’ attention was drawn to the sound as well, and he rose from his seat on the couch and turned toward the door. “Were you expecting more visitors, Hawke?”

Marian shook her head as she watched the elevator door slide open, and she heard Fenris’ light footsteps draw closer to her. Finally the figure in the elevator stepped out and she was… familiar. “Oh. It’s Merrill.”

“Merrill? The girl who lives on the fourth floor?” Garrett’s attention was caught as well. “She’s cute.”

“Little sister cute or ‘I’d tap that’ cute?” Anders asked. He’d settled onto the loveseat and was checking boxes of pizza and takeout, trying to make a decision.

Marian blinked a few times, brow furrowed slightly. “She’s carrying a tray covered in foil…”

“It’s probably cookies, Killer.”

Finally, Marian let the door click quietly shut and took another bite of her pizza.

“Shouldn’t you… let her in, Hawke?” Isabela gestured toward the door with her fork.

Marian shrugged and shooed Fenris back towards the couch. “After she knocks. No reason for her to think we were watching her, right?” She followed Fenris back into the living room and leaned over the arm of her chair to grab her beer, and when Merrill knocked on the door, Marian started back toward it. She finished the last of her pizza before pulling the door open once more. “Oh! Hello. This is a pleasant surprise... Merrill, right?”

“Yes, that’s right!” She bobbed her head a little and held out the foil-covered tray for Marian to take. “I brought cookies!”

Her voice must have caught Fenris’ attention, and he rose from the couch again, tense. His eyes landed on Merrill when he turned and his scowl deepened.

“Oh!” Merrill caught sight of him at the same time. “It’s you!”

“She’s a  _cop_ , Hawke!” Fenris snarled.

The cookies fell to the floor and Marian stepped around Merrill and pushed the door shut, her eyes narrowing. If Merrill knew Fenris, and Fenris knew Merrill was a cop…

The others looked on as Fenris stalked around the edge of the couch toward Merrill. “You transferred here from Tantervale. Did you follow the Tevinters to stop them, or because you’re on a payroll to help them?”

“Payroll? I’m not the one working for the Tevinters here! You are! I remember you!” Merrill stared around at everyone. “Are you all working for the Tevinters?”

“ _Hawke don’t you touch her_!” Varric pushed himself up off the couch and rounded it to join Marian and Fenris. “I’m sure if we all just sit down and talk about this, there’s a reasonable explanation for everything. Would you like some pizza, Daisy?”

Merrill blinked once, twice, thrice, then pointed at herself. “Daisy?”

 

* * *

 

“You expect me to believe that you’re the Nighthawk?” Merrill stared at Garrett, incredulous. “And you’re working with him-” At this she pointed at Fenris with a plastic fork. “-to tear the Tevinters apart at the top?”

“Them’s the facts.” Garrett shrugged. “And we have reason to believe that the Tevinters are getting outside help. Corruption in the justice system at every level, or something.”

Merrill sighed and stared down at her food. “Alright, I won’t lie. I’ve seen some strange activity among a few of the beat cops and even a couple of the other detectives. I don’t know if it’s what you say it is, but there is  _something_  strange going on in the Kirkwall PD.” She shook her head and looked back up at the others. “Still, I need more to go on than just your  _word_  that you’re really Nighthawk.”

Marian grunted and rose from her chair. “Nighthawk, the first one, was our father. Before we were born, he operated mostly here in Kirkwall, from this very apartment. Now, I guess he owned it and kept it paid up even after he left, because when he died it passed to us. We wouldn’t have thought anything of it and might even have sold it, but…” She had moved to the faux fireplace and was drumming her fingers along the mantelpiece. “Daddy never gave us anything but puzzles. This? Was another puzzle, and we solved it, like we always have.”

_Tap-tap-tap_ , and the code was input and the vault popped open. She turned and walked away and pulled the door with her until it stood completely open, leaving the monitoring systems and radio setup visible for all to see.

“We took on the family business,” Garrett added. “Show her the calling cards, Marian.”

Marian nodded and ambled back into the vault only to stop at a lockbox in the back of the room and tap in a code. It popped open and she pulled out what looked like it might be a box of business cards. “Our dad had a friend in Cumberland print them. He’s printed a couple batches for us already, even. They’ll match exactly with any the Kirkwall police department has on file. It’s a particular kind of paper and ink. Unique.” She carried the box back with her and settled into her armchair again before passing the box to Merrill.

Merrill scrutinized Marian, but opened the box and inspected one of the cards. “...It  _looks_  real, but I won’t know until I can take it into the department and check it against one we have on file.”

“Go for it.” Garrett nodded. “Just don’t let anyone know what’s going on.”

“...It won’t be easy to keep something like this from my partner, y’know.”

Marian sighed. “...Who’s your partner?”

“Detective Vallen. She’s one of the detectives that doesn’t seem suspect to me.”

“Wait,  _Aveline Vallen_? She’s done a couple classes at the police academy, right?” Marian’s lips twitched with amusement. “I’ve met her, and our little brother sings her praises. She’s probably clean, and she probably knows if there are any cops getting little bonuses.”

“Great. Anything else I should know about?”

Marian and Garrett glanced from the cat burglar to the EMT who was almost certainly stealing from hospitals to stock a free clinic before shaking their heads. “Nothing we can think of,” they offered up in tandem.


End file.
